The Decisions We Make
by BehindTheseWalls
Summary: On the day of Ziva and Ray's wedding, Tony finally decides it's time he told Ziva how he really feels. Somewhat over the top drama that was a lot of fun to write! Rated T for one potentially bad word - really it's just in case!


A/N: First off, a massive thankyou to everyone who read/reviewed "Here Without You" I am so glad it was enjoyed as I was concerned about ruining how "The Christmas Shoes" ended!

This is a kind of cheesy fic that I wrote after the song "Again" by Scott Alan (sung by Hadley Fraser) inspired me! What if Ziva hadn't found out about Ray and had gone ahead and married him. Enjoy!

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The Decisions We Make

Tony lifted the beer to his lips, the condensation on the bottle dripping icy cold against the bare skin on show at the top of his shirt. Despite the chilled temperature of the liquid, he felt the alcohol warm him as it worked its way through his system and into his blood stream. He gave a sigh as he pulled the bottle from his lips, but it was not a satisfied sigh. He had fallen asleep in his chair last night watching a classic movie marathon on TNT and now his body ached all over, but he knew the alcohol would see to that soon enough. He replaced the bottle to the glass table top beside him and lifted the ivory coloured card drafted out of handmade paper and adorned with simple decorations of ribbon and a paper butterfly. He ran his thumb, damp from the condensation on the glass, over the beautifully written calligraphy on the front of it.

"Wedding Invitation"

He had let this sit on his table, torturing him every single time he looked at it from the day it came through the post just over two months ago. He had often thought he would have preferred it if she had given it to him face to face, somehow he felt like it would have lessened the blow. It wasn't like he should have been surprised, he knew about the proposal and he knew she had said yes, but he never thought they would ever reach the wedding stage. They'd given themselves so little time to actually get it sorted out, to make the preparations to book the venue, invite the guests; they were obviously very keen to just get things over and done with.

He'd looked at this invitation several times every single night; but the little RSVP card still sat inside it. He didn't have the heart to send it. He couldn't very well reply saying he wouldn't be there. He couldn't. That watching her make vows to another man, seeing her commit to spending her life with someone that was not him would not only break and shatter his heart, but also tear apart his soul. He had never told her, never told anyone, but the way he felt for her was like nothing he had ever felt before. He thought he had loved in the past, but with her it was different. She had never tried to change him, she liked him for who he was; or rather, she didn't like him, she pretended she didn't at least, but he didn't care. He knew the truth. She accepted his need to re-watch movies he had seen a hundred times or more, and she accepted that he would flirt with anything without a Y chromosome. He also knew that he would be willing to give that all up for her. He could go without every single "comfort" he knew if it meant he would have her. That he could call her his. He had woken up with women on his mind every day since puberty. But it was only when she came into his life that he realized he had thought solely of the same woman every morning; of her. He knew that marrying Ray was a mistake, but he also knew that she loved him. How was he meant to hurt her, meant to watch her face as he told her his thoughts, knowing she would think him jealous, and rightly so, but also knowing that he spoke the truth. He didn't have it in him to break her heart. Not really.

He picked up the bottle and took another swig of the chilled aniseed infused liquid; it had a burn that tainted his mouth in a way that made him think of her. That kiss when they had been undercover; it had burnt with pure desire, with passion he had never felt before. It might have been 6 years ago but the memory was as fresh as if it had been just yesterday. And now, some other man was going to feel that every single day, some other man was going to be getting _his_ kisses, life had a cruel way of playing you sometimes.

He tossed the invite to the floor in disgust, and watched as it landed open, the RSVP card spilling out, taunting him. He hadn't had to send it back. She saw him every single day, she just took it as a given that he would be there. Would she be angry when he didn't turn up? Would she be hurt? Would she even notice? Probably not, it was her day, the happiest day of her life, what would she care if some glorified big kid turned up or not? But then, he justified, he was her partner, that had to count for something didn't it?

He took another long slow gulp of his beer and a sudden clarity seemed to overcome him. It was strange how alcohol could both cloud your judgements and bring you the best clarity you could ever hope to know. He was her friend. That much was true for them both. And he knew that Ray wasn't right for her. He'd turn around somewhere down the line, maybe not this month or this year, maybe not in the next ten years, but at some point he _would_ do something to break her heart. He had already watched the sadness that Ray's leaving had brought her, what his standing her up in the restaurant had done to her and that was bad enough. To think that when they were married that hurt would be so much more didn't bare thinking about. A little hurt now would be so much better than a lot of hurt later and, as a friend, he owed it to her to stop things before they got to that point.

Slamming the bottle down against his table with such force it was a wonder he didn't shatter the glass, he pushed himself out of his chair and grappled for the invitation from the floor. He didn't know why he needed to check it, he had memorized the damn thing the minute it came through the door. The wedding was this evening, 6:30, at a very classy hotel on the edge of town, with a reception to follow in their luxurious courtyard. Tony shook his head. At least they got one thing right, an evening wedding. He wouldn't deny that he had imagined how the two of them would wed someday. He too would opt for a dusky summer's eve. Outside, a warm breeze would blow through her hair, and they would conduct the entire ceremony on a patch of lush green grass, brightly coloured flowers would be planted if they didn't already grow there. He'd line the aisle and the surrounding area with hundreds of candles, each one catching the darkness of her eyes, adding the sparkle that would already be beaming brightly. He'd have vines of tiny delicate flowers wrapped around the seats for guests, twinkling fairy lights adorning an arch way he'd have put up for them to get married beneath. He could see it all now, how breath-taking she would look, how his heart would race as she walked toward him, how his hands would unashamedly shake as he took hers in his… only that dream had ended now, because his was not the face next to hers at that alter. There would be no taking her hand and leading her barefoot onto a sandy beach that he had scouted in the courtyard of a city hotel, no sitting beside her on a blanket to share their first bite of wedding cake, no lifting her small body into his arms and stepping in time to the song he had picked to symbolise them… he wouldn't get any of that… not unless he got to that wedding and told her how he felt. Not unless she felt the same way too. It could go either way; she could leap into his arms and kiss him and they could start a life together, which was always the way it went in the movies. But there was always the chance, and it was a large chance, that she would turn around and deliver one of her heavy fisted blows to his face and tell him she never wanted to see him again; and the chances of that were very high, he calculated. But it was a risk he was willing to take.

He looked at the clock on the wall, he had 40 minutes to get changed and make it clear across town. And he couldn't drive with this amount of alcohol in his system. Grabbing his cell phone he dialled a number he knew for a cab company and told them to have a car waiting for him outside his building in the next 5 minutes. Slamming the phone shut, he burst through the door of his bedroom and threw open his wardrobe. Grabbing a smart black suit from the hanger he pulled the pants over his underwear and hastened to fasten the button. Throwing the filthy shirt he'd been wearing for the past two days over his head, he pulled the crisp white one over his back and incorrectly fastened two buttons; he'd sort them in the cab. He pulled a black tie from his tie rack and laid it over his shoulders as he hopped around trying to pull a pair of socks over his feet. Thrusting his shoes onto his feet, he grabbed his jacket, wallet, cell and keys and ran out of his apartment, hurrying down the stairs two at a time, bursting onto the street and straight into the cab that had just pulled up.

Slamming the door behind him he instructed the driver where he needed to be, he told him to break the speed limits to ensure he got there, flashing his badge insured the driver that Tony would keep good on his promise that should he get a speeding ticket, Tony would take care of it.

The ride seemed to last forever; his time was ticking away and he had to get there before it was too late. As he fumbled to fasten his shirt buttons correctly, to tie the tie and to straighten his jacket, he considered if he didn't make it on time. He couldn't be one of those clichéd guys who ran in to stop the wedding when asked if anyone objected, that really would ruin everything. He had to get to her before the ceremony began, if he didn't he would sit in back and like a good friend he would clap his hands when man and wife made their first kiss… he couldn't ruin it completely. If what he had to say made her change her mind before she got to that alter then so be it, but he wouldn't be the reason the whole congregation had to watch her face as he confessed how he felt.

When the driver hit traffic just minutes from the venue, Tony threw him a wad of cash with a more than ample tip and opted to run the rest of the route on foot. He had less than ten minutes and he had a lot he needed to say. He almost ran right into an elderly couple holding hands taking an evening stroll, but luckily he dodged them at the last turn. Rounding a corner and leaping over a trash bin, he was amazed that his feet found the sidewalk and he stayed upright still; someone was on his side tonight at least.

The hotel was at the end of the street. It was huge, bay windows, balcony rooms, carpeted steps outside, a doorman, a mosaic tiled foyer, it was classy that was for sure, and she deserved no less. A sign in the lobby told him the Cruz/David wedding was in The Grand Hall. He followed signs directing him to the first floor, without stopping as he bound his way up each step with nothing but purpose behind his movements.

Reaching the first floor, the grand hall stood before him. The doors wide open, showing him all of the guests, suited and dressed inside, sitting in the seats of the decorated room. A white carpet lined the floor for Ziva to walk on, rose petals lightly littered the walkway and bunches of flowers were strapped to the ends of each row of seats. Ray stood at the front of the hall in his tux, a red flower in his pocket, his hair slicked back with gel. He looked good, a little nervous maybe, but he wasn't nearly good enough for Ziva, of that Tony was sure. Tony could see people from the office all seated together, McGee, Abby, Palmer, Ducky; Gibbs was standing, but they were all there, smartly dressed and ready for the show. Did they wonder where he was? He checked his phone, 7 text messages, all from his team; that answered that question then. Ducking behind the door as he saw Gibbs turn, Tony took the chance on the doorway to his right, praying it would be the door that held her inside.

Pushing open the door, his prayers were answered. Standing in front of an elaborate full length mirror was Ziva. She was attired in a long white dress, a strapless number with a beautifully detailed lace bodice, tiny beads and white sequins added just a hint of class and elegance to it. It was something that would have given Grace Kelly a run for her money. The skirt wasn't over the top; simple white silk with several layers of thin white chiffon over the top, embedded sporadically in the chiffon were the tiniest white gems that just gave a very delicate twinkle as the light caught them. And, because he was a man who liked to take in the whole picture, he noted her extra height and admired the heeled white satin shoes, adorned with a beaded flower at the toe. With her hair neatly pinned in intricate curls, and one single ringlet spiralling down the side of her face she was every bit the picture of grace. She had taken his breath away, and he knew if he didn't speak now, he never would.

"You look beautiful," he spoke softly, startling her, he noted, as she jumped a little, her hand reflexively reaching for the gun that wasn't holstered at her hip. "As always." He finished.

"What are you doing here Tony? You should be seated by now." He had a feeling her voice was intended to be angry, but it was surprised more than anything; perhaps she had got word that he hadn't arrived with everyone else.

"Yeah, I just came to… to tell you that you look beautiful." He finished. His heart had faltered, and with it, his confidence; could he really stand here and tear her heart to pieces? Now that she looked at him, he took in just how radiant she was. Happiness suited her, but then, he knew that, he'd seen it on her face before, only greater, she might have convinced herself she loved Ray but he knew that somewhere inside of her, whether she would let herself feel it or not, he knew she loved him more.

"Yes, well, it is nice to see you made the effort," she joked, admiring his scruffy hair and three day old stubble. His hand drew to his chin and felt the stiff prickly hairs and grinned embarrassed.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he shrugged. "There was a Magnum marathon on and I lost track of time!"

"Tony," she interrupted before he continued in typical Tony style. "I am not well versed in wedding etiquette, especially American customs, as we both know I have made many mistakes over the years, but I am fairly certain it is tradition for the guests to congratulate, and compliment, the bride _after_ the wedding."

Tony laughed. "Yeah, well… I never have been good at sticking to customs!"

Ziva stared him down, a look of irritation and confusion on her face. Looking at her now, properly, he saw just how truly beautiful she really was. He had noticed before, of course, but something about this moment was different. She had minimal make up on, she didn't need it, she was gorgeous anyway. Her eyes were highlighted with a light shadow and accented with a dark liner, her already thick lashes, elongated further with a coat of mascara, and save for a hint of foundation, she had finished the look with a pale red gloss on the lips that were already tempting him towards her.

"Tony, why are you here?" Those words. Those exact words. She had spoken them to him before, but this time, instead of the desperation, it was more annoyance that rang in her voice.

He took a deep breath… he had to do it… he had to say it… Ray wasn't right for her, he would hurt her somewhere down the line, he had to protect her, it was his duty as a good partner. He licked his lips lightly and shrugged. Opening his mouth, no words came out. He was quite literally speechless.

"Tony," she said, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his shoulders, applying gentle pressure to get him to move. "We can speak after the wedding." She encouraged, pushing him in the direction of the door.

Digging his heels in the floor and throwing his hands out, he clamped onto the doorframe to stop himself from moving any further.

"I can't, I can't talk to you after the wedding." He protested, turning around to face her.

"Why not?"

"Because by then it will be too late!" he announced, louder than he would have liked. He watched the look of confusion cross her face as he tried to back-peddle the abruptness with which he had just delivered his news. He couldn't look her in the eye as he repeated his speech. "After the wedding… it will be too late if I wait 'til then."

"Tony, what are you talking about?" she sounded exasperated, she had a hard time understanding a lot of American people but him she had been able to read almost from day one, but something was different now.

He took a deep breath. _Now or never DiNozzo_ he thought.

"If I wait until after the wedding it will be too late, too late to tell you everything I want you to know." He began. "If I wait until then it makes me an asshole," he smiled to himself. "Maybe doing it now makes me one too, maybe it's cruel and selfish and maybe you will wish I hadn't said it but I know that I won't." he shrugged. "I dunno, maybe I'm just desperate, but I need to tell you this now or…" he felt his hands shaking a little but he disguised it well between his nervous ramblings and careful pacing back and forth just a single step.

"Tony,"

"No, please," he inturupted. "Let me finish," He took another deep breath, stepped closer towards her and looked her right in the eye. "I love you Ziva." He confessed. "I don't know when I finally admitted it to myself, but I know it was long before Ray came on the scene so before you accuse me of jealousy, know that that is not my motivation here." And that was when he felt it, a flood of emotion, of feelings, things he had never felt before, and he needed to get them all out to her. "You have never failed to take my breath away, but you know that don't you? You felt the way my heart beat faster when you were near, the way my blood pressure spiked way too high to be safe," he grinned. "I could have been the first guy who had a heart attack literally from seeing you… or maybe I wouldn't be the first, I dunno, but it's the truth. I love every little thing about you. I love the way you blow your hair out of your face when it dangles before your eyes, I love the tiny crease you get in your forehead when you are thinking, the way you narrow your eyes when you are angry or suspicious or happy or, well at just about any time!" he smiled. "And then there's the way you drag the corner of your bottom lip between your teeth when you are reading, I don't think you know that you do it, but you do." He breathed for a moment; there were so many things he loved about her just flooding his mind, he had to pick the best ones, the ones that only he would have noticed about her. "I love the way you use a different shampoo on a Friday, it's fruity, tropical even, I don't know if it's ready for the weekend or if it's because you need a change but it has this lingering scent and it's captivating. And then there's the way the sunlight catches your eyes, to most people they are brown, but to me they are velvet chocolate, and when the light glints in just the right place you can see the tiny flecks of amber and gold that highlight them. Ziva, I could spend every moment of every day telling you but you will never know just how beautiful you are to me. He, Ray, he's a lucky guy to have you, to have you say yes to spending your life with him, if I could do it all over I would have taken my chance when I had it, I wouldn't let you slip away." He stepped closer to her once again, putting his hand forward and letting his fingertips brush with her arm, her skin soft, delicate, taking in the subtle hint of her perfume; orange blossom with an undertone of sandalwood and vanilla, he was no fragrance connoisseur but when it came to her, he wanted to know every single thing about her. He licked his lips before continuing. "In a completely perfect world, Ray and you would never have met; you wouldn't be standing here, before me, looking so… radiant, so ravishing, so… irresistible in a wedding dress, a _wedding dress_ of all things…" He let his eyes meet hers, really meet them and he hung on to that gaze, his voice growing quieter, less confident, hushed even. "This isn't a perfect world, and I let you get away from me once, I needed to tell you this before it was too late, I needed you to know that I love you and that I always have. He might say he loves you, and yes, maybe he does, but not like I do. I promise you I would do anything I could to make sure you were happy, forever. Can he say the same thing? He will hurt you somewhere along the line Ziva, he will, you know that and I know that. He's already done it before, when he went away, when he stood you up, but I would never do that to you, ever. I don't want to see you suffer and you never would, not if you chose me." He stepped back ever so slightly so he could really take her in as a whole. "I love you Ziva, and I'm hoping you can find it in yourself to admit that you love me too."

He never even saw her hand move. It wasn't until he felt the sharp burn and the after-sting of her hand connecting with his face that he realised she had slapped him. He brought his hand up and felt his cheek hot and flushed beneath his touch. She was standing before him with a look he could only describe as seething anger, maybe even, hatred. Gently rubbing his hand back and forth over his stubble coated cheek, he raised his eyebrows.

"Well, I guess I deserve that." He commented. He looked at her but she did not move, her face stayed set in that angry and irritated expression, something about the look in her eyes unsettled him further. He could see that her breathing was harder now; he could tell she was holding more inside of her than she wanted to let show. He could just imagine she had that pulsing hot blood coursing through her veins right now, that kind you felt only when you were so angry you truly thought you might explode if you held it all inside. He noticed the way her hands had tensed; balled up into tight fists, so tight she was probably breaking skin with her perfectly manicured nails. "Please say something," he begged unashamedly. "Anything, the silence is killing me."

"Say something? Like what Tony? What do you want me to say?" her tone was harsher than he had ever known; her accented lilt stronger than it had been in a long time.

He shrugged like a scolded school boy. "I know this is not the place or time to throw this at you but,"

"Not the place or time?" she shouted. "Tony this is my _wedding _day! I am getting married, now! All those people in there are waiting for me to go in, Gibbs is waiting to walk me down the aisle, you literally could not have picked a worse time!"

"I just needed you to know." He replied sheepishly.

"Well thank you Tony, now I know. And since you have said your piece, you can leave. And take with it the knowledge that you have _ruined_ what is supposed to be the happiest day of my life." She looked at him scorned and he felt his heart sink, this was the outcome he prayed he wouldn't get, it seemed like if there was a God, he wasn't on Tony's side. "I will never forgive you for this Tony, ever. I do not want to see you; I do not want to hear from you again."

He didn't want to push his luck but he felt he needed to point out the obvious.

"Kinda hard," he offered. "Unless you're gonna shut your eyes every day at work!" Her gritted teeth and wide eyes suggested humour was not the best way to put that point across.

She shook her head. "Not I if do not come back to NCIS. Ray asked me to move with him to Florida, I told him no, I told him I loved my job at NCIS, my friends, my life here, but how can I stay after this? I will tell him I have changed my mind and I will go with him. I will miss everyone but I can keep in touch with them. You, however, I will never speak to again." She stepped forward, her heels clomping loudly despite the carpeted floor. Shoving past him, her palm pushing him hard, she made her way to the door, ready to take her long walk down that aisle to the man who was not Tony waiting at the other end.

Tony turned and watched her dress sway as she walked with such purpose, but he wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Fine. Walk away. Leave NCIS, go to Florida, marry Ray, see if I care! At least I know I was honest with myself!"

"Honest?" she repeated shocked, turning around with such force that the single curl alongside her face whipped in the breeze. "You think this is being honest? Ruining my chance at happiness?"

Tony shook his head. "That was never my intention," he clarified. "If I had my time over I'd have said it all sooner, but it would still be the same. I would love you just as much and I would never, ever let you go. I needed to say it Ziva, I love you, I always have, always will, I'm glad I said it, maybe I could have done it in a better way but that isn't what's important. I can't change the past any more than you can, but I can say one thing you can't and that is that I never went against what my heart is telling me."

"I love Ray." Ziva admitted, placing her hand to her heart. "_That_ is what my heart is telling me."

Tony shook his head. "Maybe, maybe that's what you think it's telling you, or maybe it's what you have convinced yourself it's telling you, but I know that if you listen, really listen, it will tell you what you've known all along, what you've tried to hide… that you love me too."

He watched the anger bubble behind her eyes before her face softened; he was right and she knew it. He watched a look of horror cross over her face, regret maybe, that she was about to make a huge mistake in marrying Ray. He felt his own regret swallow him, if he had just been honest with himself, if he had told her before this could be their wedding she was about to walk down the aisle to, that could be him waiting at that alter with the look of the happiest man in the world on his face.

"I can not do this Tony," her voice was no longer angry, but it was also no longer self-assured. She turned again and wrapped her fingers around the door knob, she had some place to be, she had somebody's arm to link to get her up that aisle, to begin the next chapter of her life. "I have somewhere to be."

Tony stepped forward and put his hand on the wooden door, holding it closed. He was sure that at any other moment she wouldn't have faltered in throwing a punch his way, but she was in her wedding dress and she was having doubts, she was vulnerable and that was exactly what made this moment so important. He had to make his case and sell it well or he would lose her forever.

"I don't know what you want me to do," he spoke urgently. "I don't know how to convince you that we could be good together, I know you feel it too, it's written all over your face, you want this, you've wanted it for a long time and you've just talked yourself out of it," she was shaking her head vigorously, she wouldn't meet his eyes. "You can pretend all you want to everyone else, to me, to Gibbs, to your head even, but your heart can't be fooled so easily. You know that marrying him will be the biggest mistake of your life, you know it and I know it, but I don't know what I can do to convince you not to do it." Taking a sudden and unexpected inspiration from a movie he sunk to his knees in one of the finest suits he owned; but he wouldn't have cared if he had been outside of a gravel drive way or inside on a newly polished tile, he would sacrifice every single piece of fine designer attire he owned for her. "I am on my knees here," he offered. "Literally _begging_ you not to marry him. If you do I…" he licked his lips. "I can't… I won't… my heart will break, Ziva, literally break, please, _please_, don't let this be the end of us, don't let these past six years culminate in us never speaking to each other again, I am trying to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life, but you have to meet me halfway here…" He offered up one more desperate plea, aware just how ridiculous he must have looked, but it didn't matter to him. Not now. He may have shunned all those movies in the past where men were willing to make themselves look like utter idiots to try and win the woman of their dreams, but that was only because he had never understood that level of love; now he did, and he would do whatever it took, of that he was sure. "Please."

He watched the cogs turn over in her mind, her face soften and then tense and then soften again. Her eyes were always the most revealing thing about her, but even they gave him no indication of how this might play out. She opened her mouth but no words came out. She hesitated slightly, her breathing a little ragged, scared maybe, confused, definitely.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "He is out there waiting for me," realization dawned on her, if she did this, if she chose him, it was not just her life she would be drastically altering. "His parents are out there, not to mention his friends! My, _our_ friends!"

Tony shook his head. "It doesn't matter what they think."

Ziva sunk to her knees in front of him; not bothering to share a concern for what was obviously a very expensive dress that was now creasing under her weight.

"Ray is a good man, he does not deserve to get hurt this way." She confessed, tears beginning to form behind her eyes at the realization that her biggest mistake was to lead a man on who she hadn't cared for nearly as much as she should have.

"No, he doesn't, but neither do you." Tony confessed. "Whatever he feels now, it's gonna hurt, sure, but isn't it better that he feel it now, rather than a few years down the line when it's only going to be worse?" He was using his own justification for telling her in the hopes it would work the other way around.

Ziva let a tear fall from her eyes, she hated to appear vulnerable, but this was a high emotion moment and even she didn't have the ability to fight it off

"I should have told you when McGee and I came to Somalia, I should have told you that while revenge was my reason for going, avenging what I thought was your death… when he put you in front of me, the only reason I could come up with for why I would travel all that way and allow myself to get captured by those people, was that I loved you. I had known it long before, but that was when I accepted it. I cannot change my feelings, and I wouldn't want to, but I wish I could change telling you. If I had told you then, we wouldn't be here today." He reached out and took Ziva's hand in hers, they were both shaking, though she hid hers better than he did. Gripping her soft hand in his, it struck him how small she was. Her personality, her toughness, it made her seem so much more than she really was, when it came down to it, here she was before him, just a scared young woman in a wedding dress; vulnerable, like anyone else.

Rubbing his thumb in small circles across the back of her hand, he felt her lean forward, her forehead pressing against his, bringing them closer than they had been in a long time. He closed his eyes as her skin touched his; they were so close that each of them could almost taste the hotness of the others' breath. Sitting here, on this hotel floor, this moment was beautiful, for all that it was, and all that it held, he would not change it for the world. But it had to come to an end sooner rather than later, she was due up that aisle any second now and the knock on the door was enough to tell him his time had run out.

"Ziver?" Gibbs' voice rang out; there was a happiness to it that Tony had never heard before. He had always suspected that like he was the son Gibbs never had, and Ziva had stepped into the role of his daughter. She was the same age as Kelly would have been, and with Ziva's father not being the man she wanted, Gibbs had filled that void and happily accepted the role. "The crowds waiting for you. You almost ready?"

Ziva pulled away from Tony and looked at him, her eyes wide, urgent. She looked at Tony for guidance, but he was as lost as she.

"One moment." She called out, trying to keep her voice normal.

"Everything ok?" Gibbs called back.

"Fine, I am just… finishing up." She replied, unsure what the correct response would be.

"Ok, I'll be waiting out front for you." He offered.

"He is going to kill you." Ziva whispered to Tony with a smile. "You are taking away his chance to be father of the bride."

"He'll forgive me one day, when he gets to give you away to me!" he winked.

Ziva narrowed her eyes. "You are moving way too fast, I may kill you after one date." She joked.

"It takes two to fall for me, at least hang on 'til the second date!" he quipped, brushing hair from her eyes and letting his touch linger against her cheek.

"We will see!" she smiled, placing her hand onto his chest, right over his heart.

"So, does that mean you'll come with me?" He whispered, holding out his hand for her to take. He felt her touch sag from his chest and she pulled the hand he had already in his grasp away from him. She was hesitant, a look in her eyes he had never seen before, fear maybe? Uncertainty, definitely, but he hoped that wasn't over their future. "What is it?" he asked, as she seemed to realize what had passed between them, pulling herself back to her feet and brushing down the dress so it sat flat again. "Ziva?" he asked, dragging himself up right again, his face mirroring her confusion. "Come on," he offered his hand once again as she turned toward the door. "Take it, take my hand." He encouraged, stepping towards her as he watched her back walk away from him. "Ziva?"

Suddenly she spun around, a look of anger on her face, that same look he had just watch soften as they both realized he should be the one in the grooms' position tonight.

"What am I supposed to do Tony?" she vented, her tone short, serious. "What am I supposed to go and say to him? I am sorry Ray but I have found somebody else? Sorry I did not figure it out sooner? Sorry he did not tell me faster?" A wave of guilt washed over him, he could have told her sooner, he should have, and all of this mess, this soap opera drama could have been avoided. "He will be embarrassed and mortified and broken and-"

Tony shook his head and cut her off.

"Yeah, he will be," he spoke gently. "But, like you said, he's a good guy, he'll understand. You can't tell me you are willing to go through with this wedding to save him a bit of embarrassment?"

"No, but I do not want to hurt him."

"He's gonna be hurt no matter what Ziva," he explained. "Any man losing you would be, you're just going to have to accept that."

"But _how_," she stressed, her voice exasperated. "How do I tell him?"

Tony shrugged; he had never walked out on a wedding, he'd been walked out on and that had definitely affected him but it was in the past now, and Ray was not him. He was sure Ray could put it behind him quicker than he had… but then, Wendy hadn't left him this close to the nuptials. While he had watched hundreds of movies over the years, the kind that focused on situations such as these only ever showed the guy getting his girl, not what happened to the other party involved. Right now, he was as much a rookie as she.

"I don't have an answer to that," he whispered, stepping forward and taking her hand in his again; feeling the way her fingers twitched just a little in response. "Leave him a note, I'm sure he'll understand!" he smiled.

Ziva let a gentle smile stretch over her lips as she shook her head. She could never do that. Nothing so cold or crass, as much as she wanted to forget about what Mossad had made her, the one teaching she would always keep would be facing up to her mistakes, dealing with difficult situations head on. She would tell him face to face, regardless of how much it would hurt.

"I have to go talk to him." She finally spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper against the wind. Tony gave her fingers a squeeze and this time, she held on right back.

"You want me to come with you?" he asked. And without a moment's hesitation, she shook her head, no; strong, defiant. He'd never tell her, but a wash of relief flooded over him in that moment; he had taken a slap from her, but what Ray would do to him would be a lot worse, he was sure.

"No, this is something I have to do alone." She nodded. She broke off the contact between their fingers and made her way to the door, her fingers lingering for just a moment's hesitation before turning the knob and pulling it open.

"Ziva?" Tony called out. She faltered but did not turn back to him, simply stood still; facing the crack she had created between the door and the frame. "You will come back to me, right? You will come home with me?" A voice somewhere buried, deep inside his head had been praying this entire time, and it was only now that he noticed just how loud it had gotten.

Slowly, she turned and smiled at him.

"Yes Tony, I will be coming home with you." Without a second glance, she left the room and clicked the door closed behind her.

Tony let himself sink down into a small chaise longue, supressing the huge and somewhat smug grin that wanted to beam from his face. He had done it, he had taken a chance and it had proved the right decision. Of course someone had to suffer and that culminated in Ray not leaving here tonight as a married man, but he couldn't let that get to him, he had achieved what he set out to, he had told Ziva he loved her and she had loved him back and somehow, they would go home and muddle though, they would make this all work out. He let out a deep breath, unaware that he had been holding it all inside. This was the stuff of movies, the stuff great writers penned, the kind of love people searched and dreamed about having, and it was his, all his.


End file.
